Melody
by trinitytzen
Summary: *A/N: Chp. 2 Up!!!* War is just a heartbeat away, and with a new Lord- what can Ginny do to soothe the beast w/in the man? Plz. Review! ^_^
1. Prologue

Melody  
By Trinity Tzen  
tzenwheiien@hotmail.com  
  
A/N: Sorry if this Prologue is a bit dull. Just establishing some general information. Promise next chapter will be more exciting. ^_______^V  
  
Prologue  
Ginny Weasley hummed to herself as she strummed the acoustic guitar that lay across her lap. Every minute or so she would pause, take a quill pen and scratch a few more chords on a piece of parchment. The sun was setting just below the hills causing the bright red hues in her hair to shine gloriously. The breeze was gentle, and caressed the thin pink chiffon dress to her lean body. Just on the porch of the Burrow, there was no wizard, much less a Muggle, as far as the eye could see. For once in years, all was quiet. Ginny sighed. Maybe it was due to the fact that the majority of the Weasley family has moved on in their lives; leaving the cozy house barren. They were growing up, proof with recent events, when Fred and George moved to a flat above Diagon Alley in early July. She visited them twice, but they were too busy getting their joke shop up and running to pay much attention to her. Her other brothers, minus Ron, had moved on long ago, only visiting sporadically throughout the year.  
  
Ron Weasley, her elder by a year, was the only one she had left. Ginny was closest to Ron, easily because of they were both the youngest of all the Weasley's children. However, he was also a git and a prat most of the time. Ginny rolled her eyes, perhaps more like, all the time. When she was dating Dean Thomas toward the end of her 5th year, Ron would not cut the poor boy a break. Eventually, Dean had no choice but to back out of the relationship, and run for the hills when Ron got wind of him 'breaking poor little Ginny's heart' (which George thought was hilarious- for obvious reasons.) Ron was dear to her, but their relationship had begun to strain when he started to date a fellow friend, Hermione Granger. Even though the relationship was easily described as 'gag-worthy' at times, she was happy for them.  
  
Ginny thought Hermione was absolutely beautiful, with her bright intelligent eyes, and curly auburn hair. She was easily the smartest witch attending Hogwarts, and Ginny secretly thought, perhaps in all of Wizardry history. Ginny would be shocked if Hermione didn't make Head Girl in the upcoming year, and Hermione's final year at Hogwarts.  
  
And last, but definitely not least, the infamous Harry Potter. At the mere utterance of his name would put Ginny in a slight swoon a couple years ago, but not anymore. In the past year, they have become close, very close. Maybe it was because they both felt like the third wheel in Ron and Hermione's exclusive relationship, or that they both shared the same terrifying experience of Voldemort wreaking havoc with their minds. Whatever it was, they become the best of friends, and Ginny found out that she could tell Harry anything, and he would always listen attentively- and tell her she wasn't alone. Nothing romantic ever bloomed from their friendship, despite Ron's unyielding encouragement. They were just friends, and remain only such.  
  
Ginny let her mind wander, as she gazed out at the endless meadow. Her parents were gone for the night, Order of the Phoenix business that she tried not to get herself involved in. Not that she didn't want to help; she would have been glad to- Ginny blanched, her parents were still preaching about how young she was, and that she shouldn't involve herself in 'adult' matters. Even though she was a part of the crucial battle at the Ministry of Magic two years ago, that finally revealed to the public that Voldemort was indeed still very much alive and very much in power.  
  
Ginny shuddered, that night still haunted her dreams. The fear that had coursed through her body and the adrenaline that pumped through her veins. She was terrified, and even at the moment, she didn't know where she obtained the strength to battle all those Death Eaters. One in particular. Since her first horrid year at Hogwarts, Ginny a personal vendetta against Lucius Malfoy, who had slipped her Tom Riddle's Diary which ultimately unlocked the dreaded Chamber of Secrets. It was a wonder that no one was critically hurt from the events that had taken place.  
  
Ginny would wake up screaming at nights still. She could still see Tom Riddle's handsome dark features lingering in the back of her mind. And when she was asleep, it was when she was the most vulnerable. His breath would be on her neck, causing her hair to stand on end. His silky voice haunting her, telling her, commanding her- she was not alone, and never would be. Ginny feared the day, the day that she would lose all resolve and collapse completely into his power. She only divulged her fears to Harry, knowing that he would understand. At first he laughed, joking with her that he would rather have her image of Voldemort, rather than the pale skeletal monster that plagued him. But, he was wrong. Tom Riddle was far more dangerous. He was charming, clever, and devilishly handsome. On some level, it didn't matter to her what he had become, to her- Tom Riddle was Tom Riddle. Not Voldemort. And she was scared witless.  
  
Ginny bit her lip as a shiver ran down her spine. It was nearly dark, and she could see the stars starting to dot the sky. Tomorrow, Ron and Harry would return with Hermione to the Burrow. They had an impromptu visit; apparently Hermione's parents were concerned with her choice in a boyfriend, like all good and snoopy parents were. So, tonight she was alone, a night alone at the Burrow was rare indeed, and Ginny didn't know what to do with all the extra room and time. Usually she would go into her room, and work on new songs, writing lyrics as she went along. But, tonight, something was different. Not to sound overdramatic, but she felt something in the air. Something was wrong. Gathering her guitar and the scattered parchments, she headed back into the warm house.  
  
***  
  
Looking upwards, Draco Malfoy could see the endless night sky. The stars twinkling in the distance; seemingly to mock him as he let his head loll back and forth. His eyes refused to focus, and he had long forgotten the excruciating pain that racked through his body. Voldemort and his father, Lucius Malfoy, had been hexing and cursing him since twilight. They had to weaken his body, before the ritual began.  
  
Surrounding him, was hell, every last Death Eater was present, standing silently to the side. Draco, himself, was chained to a crucifix that stood among them. Blood poured freely from his skull, from when he had bashed his head into the wooden plank praying to fall into blissful unconsciousness. Earlier that evening, the ritual had begun- an honor in the name of the Malfoys. Draco smirked. Nothing as trivial as becoming a Death Eater, which lately has become a dime-a-dozen occurrence, but something worth risking his life for: to become the greatest and most powerful wizard to have ever lived.  
  
Then, I'll show Potter-  
  
Before he finished his thought, darkness enveloped him. He was shocked back into reality when as he felt the ice cold water drip down his form, mingling with his blood, causing a pink hue puddle at his feet. His father stood there with an empty bucket in his hand, panting from the exertion of hexing his own son for the past couple hours.  
  
***  
  
Ignoring Draco's groan, Lucius turned and bowed slightly to the cloaked figure beside him. "I think that is enough, Lord." The creature nodded and reached out toward one of the other numerous cloaked figures, all which were down on their knees- seemingly in awe of the event occurring before them. The Death Eater that approached the creature pulled out within his cloaks a small black box. The creature laid one skeletal hand upon the box, fingering its smooth surface.  
  
"You do know what this means, Lucius," the creature whispered harshly. Lucius nodded, opening the box. From within he pulled out a large ornate dagger and handed it over to the other man. "You will lose your son- and gain a god among men." In a swift motion, Voldemort yanked up his sleeve and slit his own wrist. Lucius and the Death Eaters watched in fascination as a black liquid started to ooze from the wound.  
  
Slowly he approached Draco stopping only inches from his face. The boy pulled back slightly. Reaching out with his unharmed arm, Voldemort pulled Draco's face toward him. "You, Draco Malfoy. Do you know what is about to happen?" The boy shook his head, causing his blood soaked locks to fall down around his face. Voldemort grinned fiendishly. "Your father never told you?" Draco glanced over to where his father was standing. Voldemort followed his gaze. Lucius smiled with anticipation. "You see Draco," Voldemort continued. "I'm dying." The boy's eyes squinted in confusion. "Or more specifically, my body is dying. You, my dear boy, have been chosen to become my new vessel." Draco's eyes widened in horror.  
  
Voldemort shoved his bloody wrist into Draco's mouth, making sure the boy swallowed every last drop. At first, Draco struggled against the invading flesh, thrashing against his bonds- but eventually he fell silent, letting his head fall back- his eyes vacantly staring into the heavens.  
  
Voldemort fell to his knees, heaving deeply. "Lucius," he beckoned, placing the ornate dagger into the man's hand before turning back to Draco's limp form. "Drain him." Lucius stood, walking slowly to his son's body. Tearing open Draco's shirt, Lucius thrust the dagger into his son's heart- being careful to hear the thud of the dagger coming into contact with the wooden plank of the crucifix on the other side.  
  
Voldemort smiled widely, showing his small white pointed teeth. "It is done." He collapsed, shocking the Death Eaters who had flocked to their master's side. Lucius was the only one that stood apart from them, staying rooted in his spot in front of his son. Lifting a finger, Lucius brushed the hair off of his son's brow.  
  
"We'll see if you can meet my expectations now, Draco."  
  
***End of Prologue*** 


	2. Chapter One

Melody  
By Trinity Tzen  
  
A/N: Sorry no D/G action yet. Next chapter, I promise!  
  
Chapter One  
Ginny screamed, and shot out from her bed. There was a loud shuffling and swearing outside her door and she screamed again as it was flung open.  
  
"Merlin, Ginny!" A tousled redhead fell through the door. Ron looked over at where the younger girl sat on the floor. He gave her a lop-sided grin. "Fell off your bed?" Ginny looked up, she was indeed on the floor, her blanket wrapped around her tightly- even though she was sweating bullets.  
  
"A nightmare, I think," she murmured, furrowing her brows as she tried to remember. There was a boy in this one, and he was badly hurt. For once it wasn't Riddle.  
  
"Again?" Ron frowned, coming to sit by her. Slowly he turned Ginny toward him. "What is going on, Gin? Are you all right?"  
  
Ginny ignored her brother's concern. "I'm fine. It's just-" Another scream reverberated through the house. Ron turned sharply.  
  
"What the hell is going on?" Giving Ginny one last suspicious glance, Ron ran out of the room. Ginny could hear him stumbling back into his own room and shouting loudly. The screaming continued, and Ginny shuddered, wrapping her arm around her knees.  
  
The nightmare was still fresh in her mind. Though she couldn't recognize the faces, all the blurred figures seemed familiar. The boy that was strapped to the crucifix; the man, who watched with intense interest; and the monster- Ginny shuddered- the monster, torturing the boy- enjoying it- reveling in it.  
  
She heard another pair of footsteps enter her room. Looking up, she saw Hermione standing at the doorway, her face stricken with worry. "Ginny we have to go. Something- something's wrong with Harry!" The brunette grabbed at Ginny's arm, when she realized that the younger girl wasn't going to move. Pulling her toward Ron's room, Ginny realized the screaming had stopped.  
  
Ron stepped out of the room with Harry draped over his shoulder, struggling under the weight. "We need to get him to St. Mungo's. Just look at him!" Ginny peered over Hermione's head and saw the vacant expression on Harry's face. Ginny shuddered violently. It was the same one on the boy's face from her nightmare. Right after the monster had forced him to- to do what? She closed her eyes tightly, trying to bring the horrible image back.  
  
"Ginny! Come on!" Hermione shouted from the bottom of the stairs. Ginny ran down, just in time to see green flames flare brightly around Ron and Harry, before they disappeared. Pushing Ginny forward into the fireplace, Hermione shoved a handful of Floo powder into her hand. "Go. Quickly," Hermione whispered harshly.  
  
Ginny didn't even remember uttering the words to St. Mungo's, as she flew in a dizzying speed through darkness.  
  
***  
  
The moment they arrived, healers flocked around Harry and took him away. Ron fought to follow them, but the nurses held him back. Hermione ended up taking Ron to the far side of the room, trying desperately to keep him calm, even though she was fighting to chase after Harry as well. Ginny fell against one of the burgundy chairs in the waiting room, and closed her eyes.  
  
They were on the fifth floor of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, where the visitors usually waited for their loved ones. When they arrived, Ginny noticed that the room was empty, other than the lone woman that sat close to the entrance. Her light blond hair seemed a mess, and hung loosely around her face, shielding her eyes. She sat with her back straight as a board, and jumped when one of the healers had come by and gave her a steaming cup of tea. But other than that, the woman just sat- waiting for any news of her loved one.  
  
"Did you see?" Ron exclaimed, before Hermione hushed him. "His scar," he continued, tapping his forehead as to indicate where the infamous scar was. "It was burning- I almost burned my damned fingers off." Ginny peeked out of the corner of her eye- indeed, Ron's fingers were bright red, and pieces of dry skin were beginning to peel off.  
  
Hermione frowned as she tenderly took Ron's hands into her own. "We need to go to the burn ward, this looks serious." Ron shook his head fervently.  
  
"We are not leaving Harry," he replied matter-of-factly.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, Ms. Granger, and Ms. Weasley," a voice counted, "Where's Mr. Potter?" Ron, Hermione, and Ginny jumped out of their seats- only to find Dumbledore standing over them, with a worried smile on his face. Flanking him were Ron's and Ginny's father and mother, Arthur and Molly Weasley.  
  
Molly Weasley, red hair flaring around her head, shouted at the top of her lungs. "Ronald Weasley! What have you done?" Ron cringed and sank lower into his seat. Even Hermione flinched for being in the direct path of Mrs. Weasley's wrath. Arthur Weasley calmly placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"What happened here Ron?" Arthur asked patiently. Before Ron could answer, Dumbledore interrupted.  
  
"That is neither here or there, for now- you should have those burns treated, Mr. Weasley." Ron nodded, turning his attention to his mother, who now seemed a bit surprised that her son was hurt. In an instant, her wrath was replaced with concern.  
  
"Oh Ron, what have you done to yourself?" Molly asked as she grabbed his arm and dragged out of the room, presumably toward the burn ward. Hermione soon took off after them, leaving Ginny standing silently among her Headmaster and her father.  
  
"Dumbledore!" A stout wizard dressed in lime green scrubs, much like the rest of the healers buzzing around- the only difference was that on his chest, there was a golden emblem in a shape of a cross. His face was flushed with exhaustion, and his blue-green eyes bulged, reminding Ginny of a fish out of water; especially when his small mouth gaped open and shut, catching short breaths. "Sorry I'm late, Headmaster. We've been busy- damned busy."  
  
"It's quite all right, Mr. Scelus. We got your OWL," Dumbledore said pulling out a slip of rolled up parchment from his robe. "Something's wrong with Mr. Potter?"  
  
Mr. Scelus nodded his head vigorously, causing the brown mop of hair on his head to bob around. "He arrived only a few minutes ago, I OWL'ed you immediately. His symptoms are quite- odd." He finished flatly. Dumbledore only nodded.  
  
"If you want to see him-" Mr. Scelus said as he walked down through the swinging doors, Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley following close behind, leaving Ginny alone in the waiting room with the blond lady. Glancing over, she noticed the woman staring with interest at the scene that had just gone on- then averting her eyes quickly, when she noticed Ginny staring back.  
  
Ginny shrugged the thought off, and plopped down again on one of the chairs, making sure she was close enough to the reception desk, in case they mentioned Harry. Giving a defeated sigh, she closed her eyes once again.  
  
***  
  
Ginny wasn't sure how long she was sleeping, but the sudden activity in the waiting room woke her instantly. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she could see Mr. Scelus rush through the swinging doors. His face contorted with anticipation as he ran over to the group of men; all which were huddled tightly around one another. She only caught snippets of the conversation. One in which demanded that the injured party to have a private room, the others shook their heads in agreement. Mr. Scelus agreed, and looked at the injured man hungrily- causing Ginny to shudder. In a moment Mr. Scelus ushered one of the men and the injured party- who was draped in a black cloak- behind the swinging doors.  
  
In the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed the blond woman smile, before taking her leave.  
  
Ginny glanced curiously to the remaining men standing by the reception desk. They all seemed oddly out of place, with their dark cloaks and pale skin. Most of them had a look of determination on their faces, staring fixedly at where Mr. Scelus had gone. She didn't recognize any of them, but the longer she stared- she wouldn't have wished that she did. They seemed- evil.  
  
Ginny was shaken out of her reverie when Ron, Hermione, and her mother returned. Ron was talking loudly, causing one of the witches at the reception desk to glare at him quite soundly. He either ignored her, or didn't notice since he continued talking in the same annoying loud manner. "We are not leaving mum!" He shouted, waving his bandaged hands around in the air. Ginny rolled her eyes. Even though she loved her brother dearly, the boy was a drama queen. He could blow any situation out of proportion.  
  
Molly Weasley clicked her tongue in response. "Ron, dear, I know you are worried about Harry. The healers will take care of him, I'm sure of it. There is no need to worry. I mean, even Dumbledore is here!" She responded, patiently waiting for the words to sink in. "There is no need to fret, so take Hermione and your sister home." At this point they had reached Ginny, and she shot out of her chair to protest as well.  
  
"Mum! We need to be here for Harry!" Ginny shouted, matching her brother's earlier tone. Molly only shook her head and looked at each of them- her eyes fell on Hermione, and she gave the young brunette girl a pleading look.  
  
"Hermione, you're a bright young girl- talk some sense in them, okay?" At that, Molly turned- asking the witch at the reception desk where her husband and Dumbledore were- then vanished behind the swinging doors. Ron only gaped openly, turning his attention to Hermione- who seemed a bit shocked at the new sense of authority.  
  
"Your mother is right," Hermione started slowly, and then looked up at Ron. "We should go back to The Burrow." Before Ron could protest, she continued. "There is nothing we can do here- they won't let us back there to see Harry." Ron grumbled, and it sounded something like 'that has never stopped us before.' Hermione glared at the boy, making pointed glances at Ginny. He seemed to have gotten the hint- because he clamped his mouth shut instantly.  
  
Ginny fought the urge to roll her eyes. She knew of all their little adventures, and how they have broken every written- and perhaps unwritten- rule at Hogwarts. Hell, she even broke some of her own. She smiled at the thought of her boyfriend, Daniel Winters, and the nights they spent sneaking out and meeting each other secretly by the Astronomy tower. They had never gotten caught, she knew every secret route in Hogwarts- thanks for being related to the notorious Weasley twins. They had taught her a thing or two before that decided to ditch the school system all together and open their joke shop.  
  
"So, let's go back. Your mother would be furious with me if I didn't get you two home," Hermione stated as she pushed Ron toward the exit. Ginny followed silently but the low muttering of the dark cloaked men stopped her.  
  
"After this, the war will surely be upon us."  
  
"Yes. Lord Voldemort will reign supreme."  
  
"Are you sure we should still call him that?" A man followed with a dry snicker. "From this day forth, his name will be Lord Mal-"  
  
"Are you insane?" A man with long brown hair, and a pointed nose whispered. His cold green eyes fell on Ginny. Before Ginny could react, she felt an arm snake around her waist-  
  
"Ginny," Ron said, giving the men a baleful glare. "Let's go." 


	3. Chapter Two

Melody  
By Trinity Tzen  
  
Chapter Two  
Ginny stepped out of fireplace, nodding at the witch at the reception desk, and continued through the swinging doors. It has been precisely a week since the night that Ron, Hermione, and herself had brought Harry to St. Mungo's. And it has been precisely a week that Harry hadn't made any improvement at all. He still stared vacantly toward the ceiling, his mouth open slightly, and his breath short and rapid.  
  
At least he's still alive.  
  
She shook her head. There was that one little blessing- however, Mr. Scelus said that Harry was physically still alive, but mentally- Ginny stifled the cry in her throat. He had said that Harry might, indeed, be brain dead. She sighed heavily, life just wasn't fair. Harry didn't deserve this, no one did. Stopping in her tracks, Ginny looked around the hallway in confusion. Where was Harry's room again?  
  
Must have made a wrong turn.  
  
Healers bustled around, some with pieces of parchment floating by their heads and quills magically scratching down notes. They all looked extremely busy, and Ginny was hesitant to bother them. Slinging her guitar over her back, she decided it was best just to backtrack as far as she could remember. Taking the corner a bit too quickly, Ginny found herself colliding with an unmovable being, and instantly falling to the cold hospital floor. "Sorry," she mumbled, looking up. Cold gray eyes fell on her, and Ginny fought the urge to cry out in fear.  
  
Lucius Malfoy. As long as she would live, Ginny would never forget him. The hell he had put her through in her first year at Hogwart's- and every nightmare since then. He just looked down his slender nose, ignoring her and walking past.  
  
He doesn't recognize me, she thought frantically, gathering herself. He didn't recognize me! She didn't know whether to be relieved or offended. Apparently ruining her life didn't even make the slightest dent in his. Frowning, Ginny stood to her full height- five feet nine inches. With that she saw the room that Lucius had practically ran out of. It was on the far side of the deserted hallway, the door slightly ajar.  
  
Ginny didn't know what had gone on through her mind, but the desire to see what was inside was growing stronger with each step. Her heart did little flips inside her chest as she reached for the knob. Ginny cringed as the door creaked open. Her breath caught as she saw the slain figure on the small cot.  
  
It was man. Stepping closer, she could see the look of horror on his face. His yellow eyes bulged out, hands frozen out in front of him- as if he was warding off some kind of evil. His black cloak was pulled down around him, clearly exposing his neck. Ginny's eyes widened, two small punctures were found where the large artery would have been. Stumbling out of the room, she slammed the door closed behind her.  
  
Vampires? Her mind started racing. She had seen Lucius Malfoy leave the room. Was he a vampire? It seemed absurd, how could someone as prominent as Lucius Malfoy be something so evil. Well, he is a known Death Eater, she snorted. Maybe it wasn't so farfetched after all. Hurrying down the hallway, Ginny let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. At least now she was safe among the bustling healers-though some gave her an odd look. A hand gruffly grabbed her shoulder, causing her to let out a shriek.  
  
"Ms. Weasley. Are you lost?" Mr. Scelus asked, a warm smile playing on his lips.  
  
"Kind of," Ginny replied, praying that her heart wouldn't beat so loudly in her ears.  
  
"Sorry, I gave you such a fright," he apologized. "Are you looking for Mr. Potter's room?" Ginny nodded. He smiled. "I was just going that way." Mr. Scelus lead her silently through the windy corridors. They didn't bother to make small talk, wouldn't have mattered anyway, Ginny's thoughts were still focused on the dead man. Should she tell someone? Should she tell Mr. Scelus? He was a healer, and a pretty prominent one. But something in this back of her mind told her that he couldn't be trusted.  
  
"Well, here you go Ms. Weasley," Mr. Scelus voice broke through her reverie. "Mr. Potter hasn't shown any signs of improvement- though I'm sure he would still enjoy the company." He winked. "Well I'll be off then- have another patient to look after." With a nod he was gone.  
  
Ginny slowly opened the door, and all thoughts of the dead man, Lucius Malfoy, and vampires were gone. All she saw now was Harry Potter, defeated.  
  
***  
  
Ginny didn't know how long she had been sitting by Harry's side, holding his cold hand. His eyes were closed now; maybe it was sign that he would finally get some rest. The sun was setting, causing the room to glow in a dark orange color. Ginny sighed. When she had first entered, she went around tidying the small room. Ron had decorated it with Chudley Cannon posters. Her mother had made a red quilt, color of the Gryffindor house. Hermione would come and talk to Harry whenever she could, even though he wouldn't respond. And Ginny, she would do the same- talk until there was nothing more to talk about. Then, she would sit silently, holding his hand, watching his face for any signs of life.  
  
Today, however, she had brought her guitar. Even though Ron had objected- saying it was just wrong to torture the boy when he couldn't defend himself. The truth was that Ginny was a wonderful player- her fingers naturally found the right chords, and a melody would be woven. She stretched her fingers, and started to play.  
  
After a minute or so- the melody found words. It started as a whisper, and then grew to a soft murmur.  
  
The minute you left  
My heart was broken  
I'm sorry  
I never meant to  
  
Till the day you come  
Back to me  
I'm sorry  
I'll never leave you  
  
Hear my voice  
And my plea  
Forgive me  
I did not believe-  
  
Ginny gasped as Harry's eyes fluttered open. He stared silently at the ceiling, waiting for his eyes to adjust before he slowly turned to face her. Immediately, she stood up, but Harry's hand clutched onto her arm in desperation. "Please don't stop," he whispered. Ginny nodded, and continued strumming her guitar- but lost the words.  
  
"You sounded like an angel," Harry continued, falling silent as to sort out his thoughts. His voice was weak, and Ginny had to lean in close to hear him. Dark rings sagged under his eyes, which contrasted greatly against his pale skin. His green eyes met her brown ones. Before his eyes would sparkle- a crisp green color, but as she sat there- his eyes were dull and tired. A look of intense concentration passed over his face.  
  
"I can't sense him anymore," Harry said suddenly, with a small smile.  
  
"What?" Ginny asked, placing her guitar to the side.  
  
"Voldemort!" He exclaimed, his grin growing wider, as he forced himself into a sitting position. "He's gone!"  
  
***  
  
The room was dark, and for one frightening second Draco thought he had gone blind. However, in a few minutes his eyes focused, and he realized he was in small room. But where he was, that didn't matter. It was that voice. In the horrors of his mind, there was light that broke through. He had thought he had died. But that would have been too easy.  
  
I wish I had died. Draco turned his head toward where the song was coming through the thin wall.  
  
Forgive me  
I did not believe-  
  
Draco frowned. The singing had stopped. And it had left him with a desire to know what else she had to say. Was there an end to the song?  
  
He shook the thought out of his head. It was just a stupid song. Nothing else. He had bigger things on his mind now, and quite literally. Somewhere in the dark corners of his mind, he knew Voldemort was lurking- waiting for the right moment.  
  
The door opened and closed silently. "I see you are awake, Lord Voldemort," Lucius stated tentatively, approaching the bed-stricken Draco with caution. Draco smirked. At least he could put his father through the same hell as he did him.  
  
"Sorry to disappoint you, Father," Draco replied, stressing the word 'father' as much as it was possible with your throat burning as if it were on fire. "He's not here." Draco tried to make a show of looking around the room for the missing lord, but he never realized how heavy his arms were. Instead he turned his damned smirk onto his father and shrugged. "I guess, it didn't take." It wasn't entirely true- but his father deserved every last minute of anguish this brought him.  
  
Suddenly Draco coughed violently, reaching up to his mouth where a small line of blood was working down his chin. Draco's eyebrow slowly made its way upwards in disbelief, as he saw the red blood staining his porcelain skin. Looking up he saw a similar expression on his father's face, before Lucius' face broke into a toothy smile.  
  
"Is that so?" Lucius asked, his voice low and deadly.  
  
Draco groaned. Ah, shit.  
  
***End of Chapter Two*** 


	4. Chapter Three

Melody

By Trinity Tzen

Chapter Three

            Harry's recovery was going slowly, but everyone was pleased that he was alert, chatting with them as if nothing had happen.  Ron and Harry still talked about Quidditch, as Hermione prodded them about their upcoming NEWTS.  

            "Hermione!  The NEWTS are not till the end of the year," Ron exasperated.  "We have plenty of time."

            "I can just see it now.  You AND Harry begging me for help by the year's end," she huffed in return, her light brown hair flouncing angrily.  "Well, not this time!  I'm not helping at all!  Not for the NEWTS, and not for any assignments, EVER!"  Ron paled, as Harry hid a nervous laughter.  When Hermione got angry, it was pretty damn intimidating.  The argument continued between the two, until Ginny had the sense to tell them to leave the room.  They happily agreed, and she could still hear them shouting loudly through the closed door.  Secretly, Ginny knew that they loved to argue- some sort of odd turn-on, but she really didn't want to think about that.  All in all, they had one dysfunctional relationship.

            Dropping the thought, she turned her attention back to Harry.  He had grown stronger in the past few days since he woke.  No longer bed-ridden, he freely walked about the room whenever the healers were absent.  They still frowned on any activity- the source of his illness was unknown, and remained such.  But that didn't matter to Harry, Ginny could tell he was getting antsy.

            "I would do anything to be on a broom right now," Harry said as he paced the room.  He had gotten tall in the past year, reaching six feet- a little bit taller than her.  He constantly ran his fingers through his black hair, causing it to stick up all over.  Reaching over, she patted his hair down and smiled.  Harry grabbed her hand, and held it- his green eyes searching her brown ones.  "You know, Ginny," he started slowly.  "You saved my life."

            Ginny blushed, shaking her head.  "No I didn't.  I didn't do anything."  He shushed her, and wrapped his arms around her.  

            "No, you did."  Ginny froze; she didn't know what to do.  Awkwardly, she wrapped her arms around his back.  For being cooped up in a hospital for over week, Harry still smelled of summer.  A musty scent of grass and dirt.  If this was a few years ago, him holding her like this would have made her knees go weak.  Hell, it was making her knees go weak anyway.  Ginny felt a small tug at her heart, before smothering it.  He's just a friend- this means nothing, she warned herself.  But, damn, did it feel so right.   

            He rested his chin on her head, "You did.  It was your voice.  I followed it-" He faltered.  Pulling away slightly, "I didn't tell anyone this- yet- but, there was something in that darkness.  I was aware of everything.  For the first time I understood everything."

            "What do you mean?"  Before he could answer, the door flew open.  Harry stepped away from Ginny quickly.  Harry gave her a hard look that read he would finish talking to her later.  Hermione eyes jumped suspiciously from Harry to Ginny, but Ron didn't seem to notice anything.    

            "Good news, old boy," Ron grinned, slapping Harry on the back- a bit too forcefully.  "They're letting you go!"

            "Perfect timing too," Hermione cut in.  "We are going back to school tomorrow.  Don't worry about your books, Ron and I already picked them up the other day at Diagon Alley."

            There were slaps on the back, laughing- and soon everything was forgotten.  They were going back to Hogwarts!

***

            Draco had long since left the hospital.  He didn't care for the small unfurnished room, with its dingy white walls, and short green carpet.  He blanched.  To have his father send his to a place so- destitute was amazing in itself.  He couldn't understand why he wasn't brought home immediately after the ritual.  For Merlin's sake, he was Lord freakin' Voldemort.  Draco gritted his teeth.  After a week being prisoner to his own bed, he had time to think.  Was it so bad that he was Voldemort- in some way?  The power, he could use it to smite his enemies.  Potter, Draco smirked.  Potter wouldn't even see this coming.  

            Chuckling to himself, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his father's cane.  Draco frowned; the cane had once brought discipline to the Malfoy's household in the most grotesque form.  He still had the marks on his back from all the beatings, for not being 'good' enough- for not meeting his father's expectations.  But now, he needed it more than ever.

            Something was wrong with his right leg.  He noticed it the day he awoke- at first he felt nothing, the leg was numb.  Eventually, the leg gained some strength back, but not enough for him to walk around without any help.  Sighing loudly, he grabbed at the cane.  I guess this means no more Quidditch, he looked forlornly at his right leg.

            "Draco, darling," his mother breathed as she ran into the room.  Her gray eyes were wide in shock as he attempted to get off of the bed.  "What in heavens do you think you are doing?"  Draco winced as her voice went a couple octaves higher.  There was another thing- it seemed as if his five senses had become extremely sensitive to his surroundings.  He shrugged it off as being one of Voldemort's "gifts."  

            "You shouldn't be out of bed."  Narcissca moved toward him, intending to force him back into bed, if she needed to.  

            Sadly enough, she probably could.  Draco wasn't ignorant of how weak he was.  He had great difficulties doing the simplest everyday things- but he wasn't going to make it public knowledge, nor was he going to ask for any help.

            "Mother," he stressed.  "I need to get ready.  I'm going back to school."  He saw her bite her lip in indecision.  

            "You don't have to, Draco."  He rolled his eyes.  She's been trying to talk him out of returning to Hogwarts every moment he was awake.  He needed to go back- staying home for a long period of time was driving him insane.

            "I'm going back," he replied with such finality that Narcissca looked up in surprise.  

            "Your father wouldn't approve," she whispered, sitting by his side.  Her fingers brushed the hair off his brow, he pulled away.  "You are very special to him."  Draco snorted.

            "Perhaps, now I am.  I'm not going to pretend that there was never any love-lost between father and me," he paused, then continued in a whisper.  "He would never do this, if he loved me."  Narcissca pursed her lips, but didn't try to comfort him- if she did; anything she said would have been a lie.  Instead, she stood, patting her son on the head, and taking her leave.  

            Draco stood, and then winced as a pain shot through his right leg.  He grasped the cane tightly, until his knuckles turned white.  

            Was this all worth it?  The question flashed through his mind, as it has done everyday, every second he was alone.  What had he done?

***End of Chapter Three***  


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